Innocence
by Tangledupandsideways
Summary: Are they merely the product of all the horrible things they've done or are they innocent after all? Sweet Sixteen exploration.


A/N: Lyrics are Taylor Swift's "Innocent". I've honestly never listened to the song, but the lyrics are beautiful.

 **Innocence**

 _I guess you really did it this time_

 _Left yourself in your warpath_

 _Lost your balance on a tightrope_

 _Lost your mind tryin' to get it back_

...

He's chosen truth over happiness at every opportunity. He'd rather be miserable and know all the answers, than be happy and oblivious. He just doesn't believe that ignorance is bliss, not always. He thinks happiness is merely naivety. And they were all so happy; his wife, his daughter, and the woman who would soon become his best friend. But, he ruined them, exposed them to the fallout of his actions, the guilt and fear that he kept seeking to carry, his crosses to bear for not seeing the agony on his mother's face. It wasn't supposed to be this way for them. They were supposed to be happy. But everyone he loves was put in danger. He didn't even know Gillian Foster and he put her in danger. He was a destruction magnet. And he didn't want to have this pull anymore, didn't want to hurt anyone. That would be a quick path to wanting to hurt himself.

...

 _Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything?_

 _And everybody believed in you?_

 _..._

She stands there to tell him all that happened with the Doyle mess, of the man who came to her home and pushed right through her guarding walls, taking away her choice, forcing her to bend to his will, making her _lie_. But lies, they were judgement calls. It could sometimes be better to lie. Surely it'd be better to protect an entire family of innocent people than to keep her own innocence, her own purity.

Now, she feels she's fallen from grace, from that pedestal he had always placed her so high upon, as he talks about her lie with such an edge of disgust and so much accusation. And it's hypocritical, she knows, because deep in her heart she's certain he would've done the same for her. She can't help but be terrified, though, that this seven year lie of hers has ruined his trust in her forever.

 _"It depends on the lie," she tries desperately to explain, her hands and her voice and her tears begging him to understand._

 _But, she can't even explain why her face offers him an apology._

 _..._

 _Who you are is not where you've been_

 _You're still an innocent_

 _..._

Sometimes, he thinks she didn't even know the magnitude of what she'd done. A horrible man had showed up on her doorstep and threatened her with his posturing, his intrusion, but she was worried about a family she didn't even know instead of her own safety. She was put in a horrible situation and somehow did a wonderful thing. She _protected_ him, sheltered him from the fallout of his own actions without really knowing what they were, whether he was wrong or right. And it was that blind trust in him that had him struggling to understand. How could she so easily believe in him? How could she so easily care? She had to be an innocent after all.

 _''Do you think you can you forgive yourself?'' she asks, hope in the wings of her eyes._

 _How can he tell her the answer is no?_

...

 _Did some things you can't speak of_

 _But at night you live it all again_

 _You wouldn't be shattered on the floor now_

 _If only you had seen what you know now then_

 _..._

She doesn't think he realises that he wasn't at fault. He just always turns blame on himself, swallows it up and lets it consume him so wholly. He had done his job. He just did his job, just determined whether or not Doyle was a terrorist. And he was. Doyle was a terrorist and Cal had just wanted to protect the people of the country, protect his own family. How was that wrong? Why was it his fault when a higher up had ordered a hit and messed it up so badly that innocents were murdered?

He slips into his mind sometimes, and she can just see him reliving it. She can just see him wishing he'd done differently. So what if he didn't kill these innocent people? He didn't protect them? He didn't expose the truth and give them justice?

 _"The power of the terrorists lies in the fear of the innocent," he had told her, anger and determination expressed in the lines of his face. "I want to take that power away."_

There was more to it, then. She just didn't understand. She wonders sometimes if it was his mother's suicide or the abuse suffered at the hands of his father. Something made him feel as if he lost his innocence. Something made him feel the need to protect others so they would never feel what he does.

 _..._

 _Wasn't it beautiful runnin' wild 'til you fell asleep?_

 _Before the monsters caught up to you?_

 _..._

There was a time he really was innocent. All those years ago when he was too young to understand why daddy was always sick and hugs didn't make mum stop crying. He remembers those days when he looks at Emily in all her wide eyed innocence, naïve despite her sixteen years. And he doesn't want her to grow up and experience a depth of pain like he had. He doesn't want her to ever realise that daddy's drunk and mum is depressed. He doesn't want her to understand that sometimes the world is a shit place and people can do terrible things. He just wants her to stay seven years old and oblivious. He just wants her to stay hopeful and happy.

He has demons that sometimes choke him awake at night. He has guilt that suffocates him. He feels his loss of innocence like a tangible thing. And it pricks his fingers and draws forth his blood.

He's tired of bleeding. He just wishes to be that little boy again, four years old and focused so much on his brand new train set that he doesn't see all the pain around him.

 _..._

 _Your string of lights is still bright to me_

 _Oh, who you are is not what you've been_

 _You're still an innocent_

 _..._

He chose not to seek the truth just once. He recognises it as a mistake, now. He's even gone through the trouble of rectifying it. He's a redeemed man. He did one thing that didn't fit his values, that doesn't make him to blame. She never considered him guilty to begin with. She knows who he is, knows that there's goodness right at the root and all sorts of admirable traits sprouting from it. She knows he's an honest and innocent man. Not exposing the cover up that took two lives doesn't change any of that, especially not with all the guilt he feels in his choice.

 _..._

 _Who you are is not what you did_

 _You're still an innocent_

 _..._

He realises that what makes him most angry about the whole situation is not that he didn't push for the truth, not that he didn't blow the whistle, but that he didn't protect _her_.

 _''I couldn't let you do that... To you, your family," she says, open distress written all over her face._

 _His face softens at that, bitterness melting into shame. How could he not forgive that? How could he be upset at her for something he'd done_ to _her?_

She was an innocent in every sense of the word. But, he didn't do anything to keep the world from trying to sully her. He didn't keep her safe. But she'd done it for him.

Her soul was still pure.

 _..._

 _Time turns flames to embers_

 _..._

"We'll forget this one day," he tells her as he hands her a tumbler of scotch, her teal dress drawing attention to her red and puffy under-eyes. He'd forgiven her already, wasn't forgetting the next step?

"No, we won't," she replies, taking down a too-large swallow of the amber liquid.

Her throat burns in a way that reminds her of every lie she'd had to tell and she still sees the shocked betrayal all over Cal's face in her mind. It's a picture she can't ever erase.

He already can't get her tears out of his mind, the way she had sighed with so much relief when he had pulled her close rather than pushing her away, how she had _expected_ him to push her away.

"We won't," he makes the slow agreement, swirling the contents of his glass in lazy circles.

He just really wishes they could.


End file.
